Saunterings eBook

When the bell rang, we all cleared out from the track,
and I happened to get a position by the railing.
I was looking over to the Pavilion, where I supposed
the Emperor to be, when the man next to me cried,
“Voila!” and, looking up, two horses brushed
right by my face, of which I saw about two tails and
one neck, and they were gone. Pretty soon they
came round again, and one was ahead, as is apt to be
the case; and somebody cried, “Bully for Therise!”
or French to that effect, and it was all over.
Then we rushed across to the Emperor’s Pavilion,
except that I walked with all the dignity consistent
with rapidity, and there, in the midst of his suite,
sat the Man of December, a stout, broad, and heavy-faced
man as you know, but a man who impresses one with
a sense of force and purpose,—­sat, as I
say, and looked at us through his narrow, half-shut
eyes, till he was satisfied that I had got his features
through my glass, when he deliberately arose and went
in.

All Paris was out that day,—­it is always
out, by the way, when the sun shines, and in whatever
part of the city you happen to be; and it seemed to
me there was a special throng clear down to the gate
of the Tuileries, to see the Emperor and the rest
of us come home. He went round by the Rue Rivoli,
but I walked through the gardens. The soldiers
from Africa sat by the gilded portals, as usual,—­aliens,
and yet always with the port of conquerors here in
Paris. Their nonchalant indifference and soldierly
bearing always remind me of the sort of force the
Emperor has at hand to secure his throne. I think
the blouses must look askance at these satraps of the
desert. The single jet fountain in the basin
was springing its highest,—­a quivering
pillar of water to match the stone shaft of Egypt which
stands close by. The sun illuminated it, and threw
a rainbow from it a hundred feet long, upon the white
and green dome of chestnut-trees near. When I
was farther down the avenue, I had the dancing column
of water, the obelisk, and the Arch of Triumph all
in line, and the rosy sunset beyond.

AN IMPERIAL REVIEW

The Prince and Princess of Wales came up to Paris
in the beginning of May, from Italy, Egypt, and alongshore,
stayed at a hotel on the Place Vendome, where they
can get beef that is not horse, and is rare, and beer
brewed in the royal dominions, and have been entertained
with cordiality by the Emperor. Among the spectacles
which he has shown them is one calculated to give them
an idea of his peaceful intentions,-a grand review
of cavalry and artillery at the Bois de Boulogne.
It always seems to me a curious comment upon the state
of our modern civilization, when one prince visits
another here in Europe, the first thing that the visited
does, by way of hospitality is to get out his troops,
and show his rival how easily he could “lick”
him, if it came to that.

It is a little puerile. At any rate, it is an
advance upon the old fashion of getting up a joust
at arms, and inviting the guest to come out and have
his head cracked in a friendly way.